


add a dash of ginger

by caixa



Series: Bad Porn M&M's [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Daddy Kink, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa
Summary: “Yeah, babe,” Matt murmurs, loosening his fist enough to drag his fingernails on Mitch’s scalp, “you’re getting some big Danish meat in your mouth. Work it well.”





	add a dash of ginger

**Author's Note:**

> This is a totally independent piece of plotless porn, but I imagine it happening in the same realm as my previous Matt/Mitch work, 'his boner is a foot-long concrete dildo', part I of the series.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Enjoy!

 

 

The tabletop is hard under Matt’s knees but he doesn’t mind. The height is most convenient this way. He digs his fingers in the crown of Mitch’s hair and fists his hand to arch the boy’s neck.

Matt likes the way Mitch’s eyes look when he’s high. The usually perceptive, expressive blue gaze turns inwards. There is something raw, inhuman in it: it’s like his other senses deliver him the world, he _feels_ first, sees second, and not only with his eyes. He sees as much through his skin, through his organs, his nerves and fucked-up, racing hormones.

 

There’s still cum on his face. Matt’s, from only minutes ago, when Mitch was on his back and Matt jerked off on his face, and Mitch’s hand was on his own cock, until Matt told him no.

Mitch can come but not just yet. He has to be needy and horny to serve them the way Matt wants it.

 

Matt can’t see the eyes right now, not when he’s straddling Mitch’s upper back like this, balls touching the skin between his shoulder blades, fist in his hair, pulling his head upright. He has to bow over to check, see the half-lidded, hooded, foggy gaze.

Unfocused, which is odd, because Frederik’s big cock is right in front of his face and Matt thinks it’s well worth a look.

 

“Open up, kid,” he commands, just because he likes giving orders, not like he has to. Mitch’s mouth is already hanging open, but the words make him alert. He wets his lips, opens his jaws sharply and promptly, tip of his tongue perfectly covering his bottom teeth, peeking on top of his lower lip.

Blood seeps back into Matt’s flaccid cock when he looks at it and he licks his lips. He nods at Freddie, a sign to proceed.

“Yeah, babe,” Matt murmurs, loosening his fist enough to drag his fingernails on Mitch’s scalp, “you’re getting some big Danish meat in your mouth. Work it well.”

Mitch – fuck, he’s perfect – lifts his chin just a bit, keeps his mouth wide open, like a snake preparing for a bite, and sticks his wet tongue out further, an invitation, a flesh pink carpet to march in. The little slut wakes up from his daze, his eyes dart up at Freddie’s serious face and he wiggles the tip of his tongue teasingly.

Freddie guides his cock to the mouth with his hand, like Mitch’s mouth isn’t too big to miss, places the shining, swollen mushroom head meticulously on the tongue. Matt peeks to see if Mitch is active.

He is, curling his tongue to the sensitive crease below the head, probing it in little licks. It’s a snake act again, fluttery movement of the tip of the tongue.

The giant thighs tremble in response. They’re fucking trunks, nothing but muscle, but the blushing pale skin under fuzzy ginger hair shivers from the sensation Mitch’s tongue is giving him.

Matt can appreciate the sight. His boy knows his shit.

Freddie’s hand is big and meaty when he places it on the back of Mitch’s arched neck and it’s another sight Matt can appreciate. That’s what Matt asked him here for, the aesthetic. Mitch’s head is held so sternly between the two of them now, Freddie’s thick cock slides slowly in and Mitch’s lips close around its shaft, just right, soft and wet.

Matt’s boner is definitely waking up again which promises good fun, oh yes, taking multiple rounds with his slutty kid is something he always loves.

“You can fuck his mouth, Freddie,” he says. He tightens his fist again to give Mitch’s hair a gentle tug. “Show the big Dane you can take it, Mitch.”

The hefty shaft slides in, not even all the way when Mitch lets out a little cough and a gagging sound. Matt caresses his cheek and the side of his neck with his free hand. “Okay, Mitch. You can do it,” he says, and Freddie goes on to the end, it’s almost terrifying honestly, his torso approaching Mitch’s face like a brick wall.

Mitch takes it well, his eyes water and his nose looks a bit runny but that’s expected.

Oh sweet. Fred’s cock glistens with spit when he pulls back before pushing back in and Matt notices himself breathing heavily from arousal. Freddie’s core works, he sees the muscles contracting as his hips pump back and forth, and it’s… it’s a lot.

He’s so big, and his trimmed pubes and thin but coarse fuzz of hair shine like copper, and the pink blush creeps up from his thighs, shines as blotches on his stomach. His face is already beet red, it scrunches heatedly as he looks at his cock sinking between Mitch’s lips. His hand cups the back of Mitch’s head more sternly than before, the fingertips almost white where he presses them on the scalp, and Matt knows he can let go of Mitch’s hair now, the boy will be kept in place.

 

Matt shifts backwards on the table, hiking his knees on the wooden surface, insides of his thighs brushing Mitch’s skin. He looks over his shoulder at Mitch’s curving buttocks and reaches his hand between them, to feel the crack and hole already lubed up. Mitch is ready and responsive, the ass rises against his groping hand, like begging for something inside it.

That’s what Matt is here for. He pushes his middle finger in the soft slick circle that gives in and sucks it inside readily, fucks his boy lazily with one finger, in and out, in with the pace of Freddie’s cock he keeps an eye on. He hears Mitch letting out high whimpers, desperate and pleased at the same time, muted by Freddie filling his mouth.

Matt uses his other fingers to grope and fondle Mitch’s balls, rubs the area around the hole with his thumb, and Mitch’s whimpering grows frantic, his hips tremble between Matt’s thighs.

“You gonna come from this? You want to?” Matt asks, and Mitch blinks with his wet eyes, nodding as much as he can in Freddie’s grip, his knees trashing and wiggling against the table, like he tried to fuck the polished wood.

Matt gives him another finger, pushes both in, feels the wetness contracting around them, moves the fingers in and out. Mitch wiggles his ass against them, furiously seeking support for his knees.

He would… oh yes, he would probably come in a second, but Matt wants to hold it.

He pulls his fingers out and gives Mitch’s buttock a slimy squeeze.

“Wait a little. You wanna get fucked? Like really good?”

Mitch can’t answer and Matt needs to help. “Yo, Freddie,” he says and Fred stills himself, cock halfway out of Mitch’s mouth, his own hanging open, jaw slack. “Yeah?” he pants and slowly, almost painfully, pulls back all the way.

“How’d you like Mitch riding you? Can you get on the couch for me?” Matt asks.

Freddie brushes his messy red hair back from his forehead, glistening magnificent erection out like a cannon in front of his body, and utters “Sure”, floundering backwards and slumping down on the couch by the wall, only a few steps from the table.

 

Matt lifts himself off the table, nudging Mitch’s back on the way.

“Will you, son? You want cock, you ride cock”, he suggests, moving his hand to Mitch’s ass and rubbing it sternly.  Mitch worries his swollen wet bottom lip with his teeth, nods repeatedly and starts collecting himself from the table, taking a moment to stretch and shake his limbs as if to get them in place after being forced flat down for so long.

 

There’s a wet spot on the table where his hips have rested.

 

Mitch is clumsy and stiff climbing down but it melts on the few steps across the rug to the couch where Freddie sits legs and arms spread, leaning back, cock standing up in the middle of short ginger curls. Mitch is athletic, he definitely has those skater’s thighs, but they’re no match to Freddie’s.

Matt can’t wait to see Mitch mount those beasts like the back of a giant horse.

Mitch settles over Freddie’s lap, ass to the room. Freddie lets out a pleased huff, plays with Mitch’s buttocks with his large hands. Mitch wiggles against the touch and bows to kiss Freddie; Matt sees that Freddie lets him do it, opens his lips for Mitch’s mouth. It looks hot, and Matt is damn pleased the Dane is not shy of the taste of his own cock, or Matt’s cum, for that matter.

Freddie’s hands move, one to Mitch’s hole, to probe it with his thick finger, the other to his cock. He strokes it and starts guiding Mitch down towards it; Mitch sits on the tip and wiggles his ass sideways to help Freddie settle in the right spot.

Then he’s there, stretching Mitch more than any of the fingers. Freddie lets go of his cock and puts both his hands on Mitch’s ass, spreading it wide, the way his cock sinks in is on full display.

“Oh fuck, that’s hot. Yeah, like that,” Matt pants, eyes on the sight, hand on his cock, this is the best live porn he could ever imagine. He hears the sounds, the slick squelching, the heavy breaths, Mitch’s erratic high whines, Freddie’s coarse pleased growls.

 

Mitch sinks down the pole slowly to the root but once he gets down, he starts riding it hard and fast. He starts with hands around Freddie’s neck but detaches one, leaning it back to the massive knee, then another, using his springy thighs to pump himself up and down.

Freddie’s head is thrown back, he leans it over the backrest, neck arched, open mouth panting, hissing and mumbling towards the ceiling. His hands are under Mitch’s buttocks, digging into the skin, spurring his movement on his lap.

The sweet, hot ride only gets better when Freddie slams Mitch’s ass with one hand and curls the other around his cock. Matt shifts to the side to see it better, Mitch fucking himself down onto Freddie’s cock, Freddie jerking him off, screwed, spaced-out sex faces of two men totally immersed into sensing raw, distilled, unfiltered pleasure.

Mitch’s cock spits out first splashes of white, it gushes in spurts of upwards streams like a fucking garden hose but he doesn’t stop. The slick cum swelters down his softening cock and the back of Freddie’s hand like hot caramel sauce over ice cream but the boy keeps pumping the goalie like he’s never going to fade out.

Freddie freezes. He moves his sperm-stained hand to Mitch’s ass. He tugs him roughly, presses his ass tight and close down on his lap until he's rooted balls deep inside him, fingertips white from the pressure of clutching to the firm buttocks.

His eyes are closed, he lets out a groggy series of _fuck_ s and a breathy moan, tenses – and relaxes.

 

Mitch climbs out from Freddie’s lap and slouches down on his back on the couch next to him, knees curled up because Freddie takes so much space. The position exposes his ass; Matt looks at the loosened hole, obscenely swollen and reddish pink, Freddie’s jizz dripping out sluggishly.

He reaches down to stroke Mitch’s inner thigh and smiles. “Oh fuck, baby boy,” he says tenderly, “What a perfect little slut.”

“You okay to move, Freddie?” he asks, glancing at the worn-out, sated goaltender.

“Uhm, sure,” Freddie replies and drops himself on the floor, stretching down on the plush rug by the couch.

Matt takes the space on the couch, positions himself on his knees between Mitch’s legs, places his cock on the sloppy rim and slowly pushes in, holding Mitch’s ankles up with his hands.

Mitch feels wonderful around his cock, the right amount of soft and tight, slippery but squeezing, and what’s the sweetest, he’s into it. _“Yes, oh, yes, Matt, oh yeah, fuck, yes,”_ he blabbers with the pace of Matt’s thrusts.

“What are you calling me?” Matt pants.

“Sorry – Matt – _oh_ — Daddy,” Mitch replies among a series of loud gasps and huffs.

Matt folds Mitch’s legs more, picking up his rhythm, fucking a drum drill that spanks Mitch’s helpless ass, until he feels the pressure build up to the unbearable barrier. He pulls out in the middle of it, letting the most of his load land on Mitch’s cock and stomach, to add to the beautiful mess that already decorates his boy, inside and out.

 

He slouches on the couch, arms sprawled along the backrest, thighs in wide spread to cool off everything between them. Mitch lands his shins on his lap, Matt drops his hand to stroke his thigh. He blows out some air and yawns, it’s brain’s unconscious plea for more oxygen after a workout, he knows.

“Ooh, that was a nice one,” he says.

“Ready for round two?” Freddie asks from the floor.

 

* end * 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Kudos and comments always welcome. Talk to me either here or on my tumblr, pob-lwc-caixa & badhockeymom.


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